Page 6 of Ignite the Infernos

“So the sorcai lied to us . . . again,” Lorn points out, and my father nods. Rage sweeps across my brother’s face while also igniting like a backdraft through me.

“That kind of purposeful misdirection is an act of war,” I growl.

“Yes.” My father nods again. “It is.”

“What are the odds that this deception stops with the Relacours?” Lorn asks warily.

“We’re going to find out,” my father declares, and the scope of what we’re facing becomes crystal clear.

My father looks resigned, but there’s a vicious indignation simmering just below the surface that calls to my own.

“We need to tread carefully,” my father warns. “Not only with the sorcai but within The Horde as well. Our circles of trust need to remain small and our movements circumspect.”

Lorn nods and I blow out a deep breath.

“That won’t be a problem,” I accede. “But we’re headed for a disaster with Liberation Day and the Blood Rite exactly six weeks away. There’s going to be far too many opportunities to come at us, and we don’t even know who, or what, we’re up against yet.”

“What I don’t understand is how Ever knew about the Relacour Conduit. If it’s such a closely held secret, one we didn’t even know about, how did she find out?” Lorn challenges, his gaze contemplative and fixed somewhere off-screen.

I run my fingers angrily through my hair and start pacing again. “I knew she was up to something. I fucking felt it, but I let the bond blind me.”

A loud knock stops me in my tracks, and everyone’s attention snaps to the door.

“Enter,” my father booms, and the door slides open to reveal Ogdan.

My gaze lands on my Wing Leader, and he gives me a pointed nod that sparks every cell in my body to life.

“We’ve got her,” Ogdan announces, and adrenaline explodes through me, reigniting my desperate need to fly . . . hunt . . . avenge.

I don’t offer so much as a goodbye to Lorn or my father as I storm out of the ops room. Ever slipped through my fingers once; I won’t let it happen again. Farrow, Karis, and Gatlin are waiting for me in the hall, and I sprint past them, unwilling to wait for anyone to fall into step.

“I want a plan of attack, coordinates, and Span Crafters ready to go in five,” I bark over my shoulder as they rush to catch up.

“Already on it,” Ogdan confirms. Not wasting any time, he opens the passway between my rookery and my father’s and then starts to recount the rest of the intel needed to corner my mate.

I’m coming for you, Ever.

And then you’ll answer for everything you’ve done.

Chapter 3

Aeson

“NET CANNONS LOCKED, LOADED, AND ready to fire,” Herm relays via the com tucked into my ear.

I study the front of the bank for another second before shifting my attention to the other possible exits. There’s more than I’d like, but I’m not going to wait to call another Wing in for backup and give Ever the opportunity to escape. Like the well-honed machine they are, my Wing prepares to move in. A hum of static fills my ear, and then Chastain’s voice comes through.

“Confirmed with the manager, she’s in an office on the southwest side of the building. She’s been here less than thirty minutes and has no line of sight to the front or back of the bank. We’re good to breach from both points. Target’s description is verified as tall and beautiful with long orange hair. The blood they’re in possession of is ranked as ‘Unregistered Dragon.’ We definitely got her, Aes,” Chastain affirms, and everyone locks in and prepares to move.

Scale armor crawls up throats and over faces. Protective ridges, rock-hard convexities, and horns take the place of noses, brows, and cheeks. Talons stretch, sharp and menacing, from fingertips until every member of my Wing looks like the manifestation of someone’s worst nightmare.

“Ogdan and Farrow, you take the back,” I order, and the duo nods. “Karis, Chastain, and I will enter from the front. Tove and Gatlin, cover the west side. East goes to Jori and Blay. Herm and Sondar, keep watch from the rooftops. Remember, she has a dragon mark now; don’t get too reliant on your affinity. We’re dealing with a fully revealed Syphon, and we know she plays dirty.”

“If she shifts, drive her into the sky and put her in range of the nets. We’ll deal with her there, away from all the citizens and buildings,” Ogdan orders, ever the practicalist.

“Got it?” I snap, and a round of “roger” and “got it” converges over my com.

I do one more scan of the busy flyway and the bank entrance. Nothing looks amiss. We were careful to arrive undetected, and from the look of things, no one has been tipped off to our presence yet. Ever won’t know what hit her.